


Beasts of Prey

by brvnnhilde



Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Black Panther (2018) - Freeform, Black Panther (2018) Spoilers, Canon Divergence - Black Panther (2018), Cryofreeze (Marvel), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, I Don't Even Know, Minor Nakia (Black Panther)/T'Challa, Multi, Post-Black Panther (2018), Pre-Black Panther (2018), Super Soldier Serum, Wakanda, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-05-21 02:31:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14906657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brvnnhilde/pseuds/brvnnhilde
Summary: In 1991, when the newly defrosted Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes returned to the Siberian HYDRA base with five doses of Super Soldier Serum, HYDRA selected five of their most promising fighters as test subjects for the serum. Called unruly and erratic, four of the five were deemed too unpredictable to be deployed in the field, but the one that remained became one of the most brilliant warriors HYDRA had ever seen: Eira Chastain, most commonly known by her alias the Snow Leopard.Now, nearly twenty-five years later, the Sokovia Accords have pulled the Avengers apart, forcing Eira and Bucky, who have since become the best of friends, into hiding. King T’Challa has agreed to harbor the two of them in his country of Wakanda, but the conflict and tension between him and the Snow Leopard proves to make the arrangement quite difficult to maintain. With Eira's fragile state of mind and a danger looming on the horizon that threatens T'Challa's rule, the fate of Wakanda and the rest of the world hangs in the balance. Eira is determined to never fight in a war of this caliber ever again, but will she find it within herself to aid the king she despises? Or will she let them both collapse under the weights upon their shoulders?





	1. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The brief and tragic origin of the Snow Leopard, featuring a long ass paragraph about how sexy Bucky Barnes is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've decided to start reading this, I'd just like to say thank you so much and I pity you if you end up enjoying it because I'm terrible at updating lmao.

         Like a primrose, Eira Chastain bloomed in the dark. Her sea green eyes that sparkled in the right light may have shone as bright as the stars, but she herself was the vast empty space between them. The unseen clouds that danced in that space were the flawed reflections of her mind and soul, wrought with chaos. A plight. Something always seemed to be disturbing her peace, hurting her, causing a constant ache that ate away at her, day after day after day. And the most awful part of it all was that she had brought it upon herself. She’d brought it upon herself on that frigid day twenty-five years before when she’d first laid eyes on the Winter Soldier.

 

**HYDRA SIBERIAN FACILITY, 1991**

         Winters in Siberia were impossibly cold. Eira was certain that if her upbringing hadn’t been what it was she would have fallen prey to them, just as many ordinary people had done before her. It would have stalked her through the mountain passes like a specter death, the bitter wind laughing as it tore right into her heart and turned her blood to icy gunge. If she had been ordinary, her muscles would have begun to throb and grind like the cogs in an old machine. But Eira wasn’t ordinary. She was a HYDRA soldier, a member of the organisation’s most elite death squad. For the first nineteen years of her life, she’d faced strenuous daily training and torture so vigorous that she’d become nearly unbreakable. Nearly.

         Winters in Siberia were impossibly cold, but Eira was colder. Stronger.

         But not strong enough. Never strong enough.

         The Winter Soldier, on the other hand, was more than strong enough. Ridiculously so. Eira had known that to be true even before she’d found herself in his presence. But when he’d stalked confidently into the heart of the laboratory belonging to her father, a close colleague of Vasily Karpov...the raw power he’d emitted had left her dumbfounded.

         No solitary feature could be described as the one to have made him so handsome, though his eyes came immensely close. People often spoke of the color of eyes, as if that were something of any importance, but it was the intensity behind his, rather than the color, that captured Eira’s attention. There was an absence of emotion, an emptiness that spoke of brutal memories and torment long neglected. She knew next to nothing about the man, but through those cobalt eyes she was given the illusion of scratching the surface. The only expanse of skin that was visible was his face, striking and defined, framed by tousled locks of dark hair that just brushed the tops of his broad shoulders. From the column of his throat to the sturdy leather of his laced combat boots he was clad black, a lightweight tactical suit constructed from what Eira assumed was HYDRA’s commonplace nomex thread and kevlar fiber. Even beneath it, unyielding muscle was evident, undoubtedly flecked with scars both clearly etched upon his skin and enigmatically unseen. But his left arm, a mass of vigilantly welded titanium alloy with a crimson star adorning it, was completely unmarred. The dim, green tinted light in the laboratory glinted off the metal, as if it were daring onlookers to let their gazes rest upon it.

         Grasped in his slender fingers was a sturdy silver case.

         Her father’s eyes had rested upon the case and the man who held it for barely a moment before he made a small flick of the wrist, sending the observers on the outskirts of the laboratory clambering to vacate it. Eira had known almost instantaneously that something was very wrong. She may have been the high ranking scientist’s only child, but she’d never been given the clearance to see exactly what her father was working on. When he’d requested her presence in the lab earlier that evening for aid with an undisclosed project, presenting her with the opportunity to be amidst his life’s work, of course she’d been moderately weary, but she would have been a fool to turn him down. Now, standing at her father’s side with her troubled gaze trained upon the Winter Soldier, it had become evident that perhaps staying away would have been wiser. She knew that the Winter Soldier was kept in cryogenic stasis for years at a time, only defrosted for the most dire of missions. She was one of HYDRA’s most elite assassins, but, as she watched him set the case down atop her father’s lab bench, she was certain the contents of it were not for her eyes.

         She had taken only one step in the direction of the exit when her father’s voice broke the heavy silence.

         “Eira, dear,” His tone was frighteningly calm as he spoke the words in HYDRA's favored tongue: Russian. “Stay.”

         Years of experience with her father’s conduct had given her the ability to tell the difference between suggestions and orders, and she was certain that he wasn’t simply encouraging her to stay. Though he was in no way her superior, disobeying would mean facing dire consequences later. Still, one more glance in the direction of that case had her quickening her pace.

         “I have somewhere I need to--” A brute force rendered her unable to complete her sentence.

         Eira was fast, her reflexes surpassing those of ordinary soldiers from the lifetime of combat training she’d endured. It was a trait that defined her and all other HYDRA agents. So, when the Winter Soldier’s titanium arm came out to grasp her shoulder, Eira should have seen it coming. But she didn’t. Instead, she was caught off guard, unable to react as he propelled her backward to stand before the case resting atop the bench.

         Despite the modicum of panic that burst through her, Eira shot a hostile look at her father, reaching down to pry the metal fingers from her skin.

         “My squad is meeting in ten minutes to discuss recruitment from the preparatory academy,” she said, her voice viritrolic. “I don’t have time for this.”

         “This is far more important than recruitment,” her father answered, a small smirk tugging at his lips. He gestured toward the case. “Open it.”

         She rolled her eyes with impatience. “Why?”

         “This will all make sense in time. For now, do as I ask.”

         “I’m sure your errand boy will be more than happy to do as you ask,” She nodded in the direction of the super soldier standing eerily still to her right. “I’m no lackey. I don’t answer to you.”

         The retort was met with a heavy silence. Her father’s gaze bore into her, dauntingly impassive. Eira had been known to contradict him on several occasions--the wit she'd gained from her mother had never seemed to allow her to keep her mouth shut--but never over something as important as what must have occupied that case. Certainly never when they were alone.

         And with no one else present but the Winter Soldier, they might as well have been.

         Her father sauntered over to her in three long strides, his hand reaching up to tuck a stray lock of chestnut hair behind her ear. It seemed harmless enough. Still, she met his eyes with an unwavering glare. That was when his lingering fingers clamped down on the back of her neck.

         “Don’t be rude, my dear. It’s unbecoming,” he said phlegmatically, and slammed her head down upon the lab bench.

         The force of the blow would have been enough to render any ordinary person unconscious, but Eira merely stumbled back a step, lifting a hand to her cheek which had taken the bulk of the impact. Fresh blood dripped from her ear onto the stark white floor--a telltale sign of broken facial bones. She blinked in slight incredulity. Despite her harsh upbringing--despite the rocky foundation of their relationship--her father had never laid a hand on her. He wasn’t half-witted enough to attack a trained assassin, even one of his own flesh and blood. Well, until now, she supposed.

         As Eira lifted her head once more to look at him, the pain having dulled in comparison to the shock and annoyance she felt, she saw him raise a hand to strike her again. She couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled in her throat as she lashed out a hand to grasp his wrist, quelling his blow effortlessly.

         “That was rather excessive,” she chuckled, her grip tightening with every second that passed. Her gaze met her father's and stayed there.

          It was mere moments later that the Winter Soldier finally moved, his titanium arm wrapping around her waist in an iron grip. More of a defensive motion than an offensive one. Simply a warning against any further action toward the scientist.

         Eira tipped her chin up toward the soldier, releasing her father's wrist, and holding her hands up in mock surrender.

         “Relax. I'm not going to hurt him,” Her eyes flicked to her father again, giving him a once over as he discreetly nursed the stretch of his skin that would no doubt be covered in a ring of inimical bruises the next day. “If he's careful.”

         Her father shook his head. “In all these years of training, they've never managed to teach you to hold your tongue.”

         She chuckled again, letting her own arms relax enough to rest upon the Winter Soldier's, still wrapped tightly around her waist.

         “Apparently not. Now, as impressed as I am that you've finally decided to do your own dirty work for once,” She tipped her head back to acknowledge the man behind her. “what _is_ he here for, if not to be your bodyguard?”

         “There are few people in this world that can make you behave, my dear.”

         “And what made you think that the Winter Soldier was going to be one of them?”

         “I suppose it was simply...” Her father trailed off for a moment, a small glint in his eye. “an experiment of sorts.”

         She rolled her eyes, twisting her head to look up at the super soldier again. Her voice lowered to a playful whisper. “Do you hold all your charges like this, or just the pretty ones?”

         Eira giggled softly as a growl passed the man’s lips. Still, she didn’t miss how his eyes had raked down her body at the words. It wasn’t the first time, either. He’d done the same thing the moment he’d entered the laboratory. However, it seemed her attempt to catch him off guard hadn’t done as much as she’d hoped. Within moments he was moving again, dragging her backward until she was back before that dreaded silver case.

         “Open it,” the Winter Soldier said to her, his face devoid of emotion once more. “Don’t make me say it again.”

         Eira raised an eyebrow, her mouth turning up at the corners. “Fine. But only because you asked so nicely.”

         She knew this wasn’t the time to flirt and tease. She could hardly even bring herself to do so. But she knew that if she didn’t, her father and the incredibly dangerous man at her side would be able to see how terrified she was. So, without breaking the Winter Soldier’s gaze, she brought her bloodstained fingers to the clasps on the front of the case. She unlatched them, opening it to reveal five I.V bags filled with a vibrant blue liquid.

         “Well done, Soldier,” her father was breathless as he stared at the contents of the case. Her gaze flicked between him and the blue liquid.

          “What is it?” Eira crossed her arms over her chest, ignoring the crimson still streaming down the side of her face.

         “This,” her father replied. “is the future of HYDRA, my dear,” He didn’t dare take another step towards her, not with the Winter Soldier standing between them. “The most recently developed version of the Super Soldier Serum.”

         She stared at him in shock for a moment. “I...But...Where did you find it?”

         Her father nodded in the direction of the Winter Soldier. “He’s _very_ good at his job. But that hardly matters. What’s important is what we plan to do with it.”

         “You’re going to create more of him, I assume.”

         “Precisely.”

         Eira Chastain was already one of the best assassins in the world. A warrior in her own right. She was the embodiment of everything HYDRA stood for: loyalty, mercilessness, strength, intelligence, and cunning. She’d graduated from the preparatory academy at the early age of sixteen, and had lead HYDRA’s most elite death squad for three years since then, her ability to gain anything and everything she wanted with a single word growing by the day. She was colder than a Siberian winter, stronger than a Siberian winter, and most other things, though not stronger than the Winter Soldier himself. But she could be.

         The realisation hit Eira harder than any blow she’d ever taken. _She could be_. And she knew that was what her father saw when he look at those I.V. bags of serum: his daughter, a super soldier. His daughter, the New Fist of HYDRA.

         Her voice was monotone as she replied, “And you’ve brought me here to ask if I’ll volunteer to be your guinea pig.”

         This time, when her father moved closer to her, the Winter Soldier did not object. She nearly flinched as he rested a hand on her shoulder. “I’m not asking.”

         She nodded. “Of course you’re not.”

         “Don’t look so upset, my dear,” He stroked her hair softly, a slight smile on his face. His hand came away bloodstained.

         “Forgive me,” she answered, irony lacing her voice. “I don’t seem to find this situation as thrilling as you do.”

         “This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Karpov thought you’d be ecstatic.”

         “As usual, Karpov was wrong.”

         Her head snapped to the side as the palm of her father’s hand connected with her cheek. She took a deep breath, exhaling as she turned back toward him. The cracking of her neck was clearly audible in the quiet laboratory.

         “How many more times are you going to do that before you realize that it does absolutely nothing to improve my attitude?” She scowled.

         Her father’s expression seemed to mirror hers. “You should be _grateful_ , Eira. The other members of your squad certainly were.”

         Her heart leapt into her throat.

         “Pardon me?” It wasn’t truly a question. She’d heard him clearly. Very clearly.

         “What? You thought you were the only one I’d selected for this experiment? Always so full of yourself,” He let out a sharp, mocking chuckle. “The rest of your death squad is being prepared for the procedures as we speak.”

         Even in a body trained to forgo such emotions, an intense wave of horror rushed through Eira. As she gazed at the super soldier standing eerily still at her side, she could see why many might yearn for the chance to be like him. He was powerful, more powerful than any agent in the organisation could ever dream of being. But Eira knew that the person he had been before the serum, whoever that was, was most certainly not the person he was now. The body was very much alive, but the mind, soul, and spirit were long dead. The first victims of the Winter Soldier. It was an exchange. Free will for unfathomable capabilities. The thought of such a trade had never crossed Eira’s mind, but even if it had she would have been wise enough to have foregone it. Even with the glory and esteem she would gain within HYDRA, she didn’t want this. Not for herself or for the rest of her death squad, her dearest friends. Her family.

         “Under whose order?” Her voice was filled with a terribly vulnerable desperation. Desperation and anger.

         “Yours.”

         Of course. _Of course_ he had used her to get to them. Her father had always known what her greatest weakness was: she would never leave without them.

         Eira had never understood the concept of love or why so many gave it for free when it was far easier to live in its absence, but even if she’d never received any from her father, she’d never gone without it either. Not really. She was taught that love was possession, something that stifled her in unimaginable ways. The love that the members of her squad had for each other, the love that she had for _them,_ however, even if she had never truly seen that it was there...it was far from stifling. It fanned their flames and made them who they were: the strongest and best that HYDRA had to offer. Perhaps it made sense that they, of all people, would be chosen for these experiments. Still, that didn’t ease the pain in the slightest.

         “You’re a bastard, you know that?” Tears had begun to form in her eyes.

         “You don’t understand, Eira. But you will. This is something bigger than you, bigger than me, bigger than any of us,” her father said. “Your sacrifices will do wonders for HYDRA. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted? To serve?”

         “Not like this.”

         He placed a hand on her shoulder, his voice soft. “Hail HYDRA,” he said.

         She knew what he expected of her. A reply. A final salute to the organisation she had pledged her life to before her free will was stolen from her. But, no matter how selfish it may have been, she refused to give in. HYDRA didn’t deserve her acknowledgement, and neither did her father. Her only regret was that it had taken her this long to see it.

         The rage in her father’s expression was blatant when it became evident that Eira did not plan to answer. She expected another strike, this time one that she would block without hesitation, but it never came. Instead she kept her body completely still as he brought his lips close to her ear to make one last attempt. Slow and curt. “Hail. HYDRA.”

         There was only a moment of heavy silence before she felt a needle puncture the skin at the crook of her shoulder, a needle her father had kept hidden within the sleeves of his lab coat. Eira had known it was there. She could have stopped him in mere seconds, and killed him as payment for what he planned to do to her, should she have been so inclined. But she didn’t. It hardly mattered anyway.

         The experiments had yet to begin but Eira Chastain was already gone. Or perhaps she had never truly existed in the first place. She had never seen what the world outside of HYDRA was like, and she had never known that a life amongst assassins was no life at all. But what she _did_ know was that sometimes it much better to simply forget.

         Unfortunately, what came after was far from simple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lmk if you liked it! (and btw if you're here for T'Challa, as I assume most of you would be, he's coming I promise)


	2. A Little Faith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If one has never been to Wakanda, one might believe that a thicket of trees could not possibly hide a country.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is full of fluffy EiraxBucky, so get ready to drown in cuteness.

_          At first, there was nothing. Nothing at all. _

_          It was as if she was drowning in darkness, the very weight of it pressing into her body, pulling the air from her lungs without toil. Within it, the upper contents of her head became little more than a spiral of wool, turning slowly as it unravelled. One more revolution and the final strand would release, and allow her mind to slip through the gap--to float slowly, up and away. In this abyss there was no room for light, no room for emotion or feeling of any kind. It buried itself in her skin but left no trace of ever having been there, soothing her with a soft caress before biting in again. It ate away at her spirit--the only part of her that remained--and tore her apart, putting her back together in a span of seconds. _

_          There was fear in this darkness, but there was also refuge. Refuge from the flesh and blood monsters of the light: the ones that possessed an array of weapons and vile intentions. The ones who acted as judge, jury and executioner in the name of their cause. And so, at first, there was nothing at all, and she embraced it. _

_          But then there was nothing but agony. _

_          It wasn’t sharp like a needle point or knife. It burned through her veins like boiling water, scorching flames licking at every crevice that could be reached. It stroked every muscle, every bone, every nerve, every stretch of pale skin, flaying each part of her slowly. It reached into her skull, clawed at her mind, pulled memories from within, and let them drift out in front of her for mere moments before dissolving them completely. It warped her, re-worked her very composition. The darkness--suddenly disrupted by a blue glow that seemed to be seeping from her skin--did nothing but watch as she was changed in inconceivable ways. It made her into something that was the most of herself she’d ever been, but also the least. Not even she could decipher what she’d become, nor could she remember what she’d been. _

_          Soon enough, the darkness faded completely. She found herself staring at her own reflection, distorted in a sheet of glass before her eyes. Walls of thick, impenetrable titanium surrounded her on all sides. She reached a hand up to stroke the metal, searching for any weakness, any point of exit. She found nothing, nothing but a fresh wave of fear that overwhelmed her as she saw the razor-sharp claws that seemed to be fighting a war at the tips of her fingers, retracting and protruding from the skin in a violent dance. Each breath came out a gasp, every heartbeat a turbulent push from within, proding as a giant placed within the chest--a great wave against a minuscule embankment. She was given barely a moment to dwell on it, to calm her heart, to fill her lungs with air before the cold arrived. It was a flood, nipping at her face and prowling beneath her skin. It spread like the lacy tide on a frigid winter beach. She saw her breath appear in a cloud before her as frost crept over her hand, still resting against the wall of the metal chamber. She could feel herself tensing, the ice burrowing itself inside the depths of her body. Her muscles, her bones, her heart: all frozen solid. She was fading quickly--fading alongside the fire that resided in her veins. _

_          Fading, and then falling. _

_          The titanium chamber was gone, all remnants of both the fire and the ice replaced by the caress of wind against her as she tumbled down, down, down. She could see a battle raging around her, but not a battle of foes. Every strike was hesitant, every word a plea for surrender. _

_           This was a battle of friends. _

_           She struggled to recognize the warriors. Their faces, their forms. She saw a suit of gold and crimson, moving through the sky as if it were swimming through water; a glowing scarlet mist seeping from the fingertips of a girl in a long coat; a thin, agile figure adorned in red and blue swinging from the surrounding buildings, carried on invisible tethers; a blue helmet, and a white star. She saw a body clad in black, accented with silver, watching from above. Then she closed her eyes, bracing herself for the impact that would occur when her descent concluded. But, even as the wind died down and the sensation of falling faded, she found that she did not hit the ground at all. _

_          When she opened her eyes, she saw them. She’d changed immensely since the last time they’d been together, of course--the challenges she’d faced in her occupation had demanded it. But they remained exactly the same. They lay asleep within their chambers, much like the one she’d freed herself from minutes before, a thin layer of frost covering their skin. They seemed to be far fairer than they were in waking hours, made so by the ice that encased them. It had left an assortment of snowflakes within their hair like a blanket of stars spreading across the sky at various times of day: dawn, twilight, midnight, and noon. She wanted to stay with them, to wake them, to save them. But, no matter how hard she tried, her body wouldn't move. Not an inch. _

_          The last thing she heard was the gunshots. All four of them. _

 

**╬**

 

**NORTH-EAST CANAAN AIRSPACE, 2016**

         Eira woke with a gasp.

         The world was aquiver. Shaking. Blurring at the edges. And she couldn’t be sure that she was even breathing. Had she not been used to this feeling--to the horrors that greeted her during sleep and never truly left when she was awake--the concept might have frightened her. But this wasn’t new, not by any means, and she’d seen so much that little frightened her these days.

         There was always a moment on the brink of awareness where she was whole again, but it was fleeting. It evaporated faster than summer rain off the burnt earth. By the time her eyes opened, her mind became overwhelmed all over again, as if everything she’d been through was new: fresh, and raw. As she let herself focus on the soft hum of the stolen Quinjet’s engine to help calm her erratic heartbeat, she couldn’t help but wish that she could linger in that blissful ignorance of waking, because neither dreams nor reality provided her with any solace. Not anymore.

         These nightmares had haunted Eira for so long that she could hardly remember a time that she had gone without them. Still, she found that, no matter how many times she was forced to endure them, they weren’t something she could ever grow used to. Every so often, new frames would be integrated amongst the old ones, never replacing anything, but simply making it all last longer. It was a constant reminder of everything she’d gained and lost over the years. Everything she’d kept, and--when it came to the last two frames of those images: the most recent additions, having joined the others just days before--everything she couldn’t change.

         But the worst part of the nightmares was that they weren’t nightmares at all. They were memories.

         She slowly sat up, bracing her hand against the wall to her right. She was positioned with her side pressed against the back of one of the impossibly firm seats that lined the Quinjet, her head resting on the railing that bordered off an area of weapon storage. She groaned softly. It was a wonder that she’d even managed to fall asleep in such a pose.

         She caught sight of her reflection in the cold metal of the wall. She really  _ had  _ changed since those days she’d spent as a HYDRA agent so long ago. The long curls that trailed down her back, once a dark chestnut, were now a brilliant platinum. The Super Soldier Serum, combined with the various other experiments her father had conducted on her had seen to that. Her skin had become terribly pale, as if frigid water was flowing swiftly beneath it, and her eyes...no one had predicted the drastic change in her eyes. Gone was the lovely, soft green she’d inherited from her mother. It had been replaced by a striking, frightening violet.

         Eira sighed. The experiments hadn’t made her  _ beautiful _ , per say. They had simply recolored her features to heighten what she already possessed. It had been incredibly helpful as an assassin--pretty eyes seemed to gain trust easily--but as a fugitive in hiding...drawing people in wasn’t exactly the best thing.

         “You’re awake,” said a voice from to her left, the smooth baritone reverberating through her bones. It was a voice that she heard every day, one that she trusted. The only one capable of bringing her back every time she lost herself.

_ His  _ appearance hadn’t been changed by the serum, and he never failed to tease her about it.

         Eira shifted her body on the seat, turning her head to meet the gaze of her dearest friend. Bucky Barnes was leaning against the entrance to the cockpit. The remaining severed wires and metal from his lost titanium appendage was wrapped in a makeshift cloth covering. For the first time in a long time, he looked calm. Happy, even. She knew she could owe that to the current destination they had set course for. Still, she couldn’t find within herself to feel the same.

         “Barely,” she replied, stretching her arms above her head before settling back into a comfortable position. “America Embodied does know that this thing has an autopilot setting, right?”

         At that, Bucky let out a small chuckle, reaching out to put his remaining hand on the shoulder of the jet’s third and final occupant: Captain America. Or, as Bucky chose to address him, Steve. Never Cap, like everyone else seemed to. Just Steve.

         It wasn’t that Eira didn’t like the Captain. There was just no way in hell she’d be calling him by his first name. She knew better than anyone that names held power. She could only hope that her use of nicknames would be enough to convince Bucky that she trusted this man whom her friend seemed to have so much faith in. Unfortunately she couldn’t give him  much more than that. It had been such a long time since she'd lent her trust to another living being. Twenty-five years, to be exact. And it had been to Bucky...if her memory hadn’t deceived her, as it often did these days.

         “Flying’s a welcome distraction,” the Captain said, turning his head to look at her. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth but didn’t quite reach his eyes. That was understandable, especially after all that had happened over the past few days. The Sokovia Accords, the Clash of the Avengers...and a head-to-head with Tony Stark. She could only imagine how the Captain was holding up. And he had fought those battles for Bucky. Eira may not have trusted Steve Rogers, but it did seem like they had a common goal: to keep Bucky safe. Still, she wondered how that was to be achieved when they had set course the African Kingdom of Wakanda.

         “Explain to me again why you’re flying us into a country lead by a man who has repeatedly tried to kill us,” she said, rising from the Quinjet seats and moving to rest against the wall opposite to Bucky.

         Bucky pursed his lips. “I know you don’t like this idea, but--”

         “Don’t like it?” She raised an eyebrow. “I  _ despise  _ this idea. Offering us refuge in his capital city doesn’t change the fact that he threw me off a building.”

         “I’ve watched you throw yourself from greater heights for fun, Snow.”

         “He almost tore out your throat. Multiple times.”

         “Touche,” he shrugged. “But, let's face it: he wasn’t the first person to try and kill us, and he won’t be the last.”

         “Usually when people try to kill us, we’re allowed to fight back. Neutralise the threat.”

         “Neutralise  _ a _ threat, not  _ the  _ threat. And I don’t think the Prince of Wakanda is either of those,” Bucky trains his gaze on the floor of the Quinjet. “Besides, we don’t exactly have any other options.”

         “Yes, we do. We could go with him,” she replied, tilting her head in the direction of the Captain.

         Steve nodded, keeping his eyes on the airspace before the jet. “You’ll always have a place with us, if you change your mind.”

_ Us. _ The others that had been turned into outlaws by this godforsaken civil war. As weary as Eira was of them, they had fought for her--for Bucky. The Crown Prince of Wakanda, on the other hand, had done everything in his power to prevent them from escaping that airport in Germany. And his actions had cost her dearly.

         “If I don’t do this, I won’t have a mind to change,” Bucky turned to Eira, his eyes sad. “You don’t have to stay with me.”

         “No,” Eira smiled, her hand reaching out to squeeze Bucky’s shoulder gently. “But you know I can never seem to leave you behind.”

         This was who they were. Two souls who had seen and endured countless horrors over the course of their lives--two souls who had been isolated from all that was good in the world for far too long, finding solace in nothing but each other. Slowly over the past few years, they had compiled their strength to bend the iron bars that had imprisoned them, doing so, not for themselves, but for the other. What they had was a bond laid bare, stripped to the bone, only now allowed to bask in the light of safety. Only now were they given the chance to fathom a future of their own: a future where they were together, side by side as they had been for twenty-five years. Except this time they would be together and at peace. That was why Eira had chosen to ignore the horrid feeling the thought of coming face to face with Prince T’Challa again gave her, and come with Bucky to Wakanda.

         It was a rare thing to find someone who truly knew Eira Chastain, but if by some miracle you managed, you would find that she’d follow James Buchanan Barnes to the ends of the earth.

         Bucky's mouth turned up at the corners and he pulled her in for a hug. “To whatever end?”

         She rested her head against his chest, holding him tight. “To whatever end.”

         Eira could see the Captain glance at the pair through the corner of her eye, the ghost of a smile on his face. She smiled back at him. She knew it must have been relieving for him to see that, though Bucky’s life at HYDRA had been dreadful, he had not been completely alone.

         “We’re getting close to the Wakandan border,” Steve said, running a hand over the Quinjet’s instrument panel and flipping various switches.

         Eira pulled back from Bucky with a smirk. “Buckle up.”

         He rolled his eyes in response, but obeyed, settling down in the copilot seat next to Steve. She moved to lean against the back of the seat and let her fingers toy with the long, dark tresses of his hair.

         “Are you going to take your own advice?” he asked, looking up at her.

         She shrugged. “Cats always land on their feet.”

         “So do Super Soldiers.”

         “Hey. You lost an arm not too long ago,” she said softly, beginning to braid a few locks of hair. “I’m just looking out for you.”

         He reached up to pull one of her hands away from his head, clasping it in his own. “I know you are, Snow, but I can’t have you worrying yourself to death.”

         There was that nickname again.  _ Snow _ .

         Eira hadn’t been the Snow Leopard since the day the Project Insight Helicarriers fell out of the sky two years before, allowing her and Bucky to break free of HYDRA. Still, the name had stuck, just as her nickname for Bucky--Winter--had. Though they were no longer winter soldiers, those two aliases would always be a part of them. And, since they’d both spent the past twenty-five years without any memory of their former selves, Winter and Snow had become who they were--at least to each other.

         “If worrying hasn’t killed me by now, I don’t think it’s going to,” she replied dismissively.

         Bucky let out a chuckle. “With the amount of other things that have tried to kill you, I don’t think you’re capable of dying.”

         She scoffed, squeezing his hand slightly before letting go. But, as her gaze flicked up to the airspace in front of them, she found her own hands immediately moving to grip the seat in front of her.

         “ _ Captain _ ,” she hissed, her body tensing. “What the hell are you doing?”

         The Quinjet was losing altitude quickly, but Steve hadn’t decreased the speed at all. All Eira could see before them was a sea of impossibly tall trees, all of which were clumped together so closely that there was no possible way that anything _ ,  _ let alone a kingdom, could be hidden within them. If they continued at this rate, they would crash...and then it would be proven that she most certainly  _ was _ capable of dying.

         Steve shook his head slightly, appearing as unsettled as she was. “These are the coordinates T’Challa gave me.”

         “There’s nothing here,” Bucky said quietly.

         “We need to leave,” Eira stepped out from her spot behind Bucky’s seat, and moved to stand behind the Captain’s. “Now.”

         “She’s right, Steve. This could be a trap.”

         “The Prince said to keep going,” Steve didn’t take his eyes off the airspace in front of the Quinjet--off the treeline that drew nearer with each second that passed. His tone was laced with nervousness, and slight confusion. “He said they’d open the barrier.”

         “What barrier? There is no barrier,” Eira replied frantically.

         “Apparently, we’re not supposed to be able to see it.”

         “Apparently?”

         “Steve,” Bucky’s voice was hesitant. “Are you sure about this?”

         “ _ Bucky _ .”

         “We need to trust him, Snow.”

         “It’s not him I don’t trust,” She rested a hand on Steve’s shoulder, leaning closer to him so her voice could be heard over the roar of the Quinjet--and the alerts that flashed on the instrument panel as if they weren’t painfully aware of their low altitude. “The Prince could have been lying, Captain--he  _ had _ to have been lying. We can’t try to fly through this.”

         “And if he was telling the truth?”

         “If we keep going, we won’t be alive to find out.”

         “It could be an illusion,” Bucky mused from his seat, gazing out at the trees.

         They were far too close for Eira’s liking.

         “Maybe,” Steve’s hand gripped the sidestick controller so tightly that his knuckles turned white. “But would Wakandans even have access to that type of technology?”

         “I don’t know what to believe anymore,” Eira sighed.

         Bucky reached across the cockpit to take her hand. There was a slight nervous smile on his face. “The Prince has a cat suit made from the strongest metal on earth, and he fights like a super soldier.”

         Eira groaned as Bucky pulled her to him. “Don’t remind me.”

         She perched herself atop his lap, and watched silently as he buckled them both into the seat. His arms wrapped tightly around her.

         “Anything’s possible,” he said, as much for his own benefit as for hers, she suspected. “Have a little faith.”

         Though she nodded, Eira knew she could not heed his request. She had lost faith a long time ago. There was none left within her to spare for the Prince of Wakanda.

 

**╬**

 

          T’Challa Udaku was just outside the Citadel when the call came in through the apparatus in his ear. He’d been pacing a balcony, looking out over the Golden City as he contemplated the choice he'd made.

         “Your Majesty,” a high female voice said, sounding slightly perturbed. “There’s an unidentified craft approaching the barrier. Three passengers, from what we can tell.”

         He raised a finger to the apparatus. “Let them through.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it was only a little peek of him, but T'Challa is here!! And now the best is yet to come.  
> I know this chapter was a little slow paced, but things will pick up in the next one. (*coughcough* A certain leopard meets a certain panther, this time on "good" terms *cough*)
> 
> Let me know what you think!


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